


The Rose on the Tree

by orphan_account



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Artist Peter, M/M, graffiti artist au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-02 00:31:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10933233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: There’s a painting on the side of the store. It’s not supposed to be there.The painting’s a tree with blue leaves- one of Rose’s less politically charged pieces, but he felt like a more mellow one would suit the office, with its high arches and the quaint little boutique inside.The tree has a bright red rose on one of the branches instead of a leaf- Rose’s signature. It’s why he goes by Rose. It’s his name.For now.





	The Rose on the Tree

There’s a painting on the side of the store. It’s not supposed to be there, but the owner will probably be fine with it. It usually helps business when Rose spray-paints walls. People come to see it, and hey, maybe they’ll buy some ice cream, too. Rose’s that famous, and it’s not ideal. 

If you want to anonymous, don’t get famous, Mag told him. Rose failed that.

Rose doesn’t mind much, though. He can still sneak around in black hoodies at night, and he gets to watch the media stand on its heads trying to figure out who he really is.

The painting’s a tree with blue leaves- one of Rose’s less politically charged pieces, but he felt like a more mellow one would suit the office, with its high arches and the quaint little boutique inside. 

The tree has a bright red rose on one of the branches instead of a leaf- Rose’s signature. It’s why he goes by Rose. It’s his name.

For now.

 

When Juno Steel drives to his shop the next day, he finds a tree next to the door. He’s so bleary-eyed that for a second he thinks someone planted one, but he notices that the leaves are green and it’s two dimensional. There’s a rose in the corner. Juno grimaces. 

He throws open the door and tosses his coat onto the chair. “Rita! Some twerp who thinks he’s an artist tagged the shop!”

Rita looks up from her computer. “Oh, nah, Mistah Steel, that’s Rose. He’s super famous, you should see his other art. It’s so cool that he chose us-”

“Who is he?”

“That’s the thing, Mistah Steel, no one knows.”

“No one knows, huh?” Juno raised his eyebrow. “Let’s see about that.”

“I already checked, Mistah Steel. Nothing on the web.” Rita said mournfully. “You know, you’d think they’d figure it out, like in that one show-”

“Have you considered the fact that maybe the answer isn’t on your computer?”

“Oh, yeah, I considered it, but I dismissed it. Silly.”

“Rita, I’m going out. Keep the shop running smoothly, will you?”

“I’ll try, Mistah Steel.”

“You’d better.”

Juno slammed the door behind him and glanced at the tree. It didn’t look too bad, to be honest. Maybe he’d look for some art for his wall. 

 

The square was packed, about three hundred people all trying to get where they wanted. The was a man in the corner selling canvases that looked pretty good from Juno’s perspective. He walked over and the man looked up. 

He had slick black hair and glasses and a splotch of turquoise paint on his jawbone. “Hello, would you like to buy a painting? Fifteen creds each.”

Juno scanned the paintings. Three were of a big cat- maybe a tiger- with glasses and a bow tie, another few of a green building, partly shrouded in mist, and the last a man.

“Who’s he?” Juno asked pointing at the painting of the man. He was short and stocky with a full beard.

The painter shrugged. “Just a made up one. No one in particular.” the painter's eye twitched, but Juno couldn’t tell if it was a sign he was lying or normal for him.

Juno frowned. “I’ll take that one, then.”

The painter smiled. “An excellent choice. His name is Mag.”

“Are you sure he’s not anyone?”

“Perfectly sure.” the painter smiled. “You’re the first person to buy today, have a sticker.”

The painter handed Juno a post-it note with a rose and a phone number on it. Juno frowned. “That’s not a stick-” he looked up. The painter was gone. 


End file.
